


the deepest secret nobody knows

by starsaregoingout (abovetheruins)



Category: Bright (2017)
Genre: Chubby Reader, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 01:25:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13423773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abovetheruins/pseuds/starsaregoingout
Summary: It was the first time you'd been introduced to so many of Kandomere's coworkers, and though you'd been nervous at the thought of being surrounded by so many people you didn't know, you'dwantedto go. Wanted to be supportive. You didn't want to hide away just because you were scared.And it had been fine. There were just as many friendly nods and welcoming smiles as there were... less savory reactions. It was just the latter that wore on you, like a constant itch at the back of your mind.





	the deepest secret nobody knows

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a request on tumblr: _Can you do a Kandomere x chubby shy reader smut?_
> 
> Warnings: minor characters being assholes, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, female!reader

You stare hazily at the wall, one palm planted firmly against your mouth to smother the noises slipping from your throat - soft gasps and whimpers that build in volume as sharp teeth drag along your skin.

Outside the door to the coat room you can hear the muted thrum of laughter and voices, and a heated flush steals over your cheeks. No doubt at least a few of the guests had seen you depart from the ballroom; even if they hadn't, there was no guarantee that the coat checker - a human boy whose eyes had kept slipping between you and your companion as though he were missing some integral piece of a puzzle - wouldn't blab about where you two had disappeared to. Though maybe the bill Kandomere had slipped into his hand would be enough of a deterrent against gossip.

A particularly rough bite against the arch of your throat scatters your wayward thoughts to the wind, a startled keen bursting through your fingers as full lips wrap around your aching flesh and suck. You clench your eyes shut against the stinging pleasure, your heavy breaths dampening the palm of your hand, and try to pull yourself together.

_He's leaving a mark_ , you think faintly, heat building in the pit of your belly. _Everyone will see_.

Maybe that's the point.

You flush at the thought. You'd tried to keep your head up and ignore the twitterings around you, the stares. You'd stuck close to Kandomere and Montehugh and ignored the eyes at your back, some elven, some not, all some variety of surprised or confused or - worst of all - disbelieving.

It was the first time you'd been introduced to so many of Kandomere's coworkers, and though you'd been nervous at the thought of being surrounded by so many people you didn't know, you'd _wanted_ to go. Wanted to be supportive. You didn't want to hide away just because you were scared.

And it had been fine. There were just as many friendly nods and welcoming smiles as there were... less savory reactions. It was just the latter that wore on you, like a constant itch at the back of your mind.

No one said anything to your face. They didn't have to. You caught enough whispered comments behind your back any time you left the protective bubble that had formed around you - Kandomere and Montehugh and Montehugh's wife, as well as the friendly police officers who had approached you early in the evening. Partners, you think. You had spent most of the night hiding a smile as the orc and human exchanged amusing banter about the poshness of the whole event and the stuck up agent's spouses who gave you all a wide berth.

Whenever you ventured to the bar or the refreshment tables, though, you would hear them.

"Doesn't really seem his type, does she?"

"Wouldn't expect him to go for a human."

"Especially one so... well."

After overhearing that last comment you had flushed hotly and returned to your group without the drink you'd been seeking, your stomach tied up in knots. It'd been a struggle not to wrap your arms around yourself and shrink inwards, anything to hide the curve of your belly and make yourself smaller. You'd hated feeling that way.

Kandomere's shoulder had pressed against yours, distracting you from your quickly spiraling thoughts, and though he hadn't asked, you'd seen his eyes flicker over to the man who'd made the comment, cool and icy blue and radiating displeasure.

It had been mere moments after that that he had excused you both, curling his hand over yours as he pulled you from the room.

And now you were here, slowly being reduced to a puddle of sensation among expensive coats and furs, in a room with no lock and a packed ballroom full of federal agents and police officers who could come across you both at any moment.

You don't care.

The prick of teeth along your newly formed bruise makes you gasp and duck your head, this time out of true pain. A moment of silence passes before a smooth palm curls around your cheek, carefully lifting your head. Through watery eyes you peer into the icy blue gaze you've grown to know so well, though you'll never grow used to the way it makes you feel - untethered and overwhelmed, a jumbled mix of nerves and arousal hot in the pit of your stomach.

"Too much?" You bite your lip at the sound of Kandomere's voice, rougher in timbre from his ministrations, and weakly nod your head.

"Would you like to leave?" You're not sure whether he means the coat closet or the event altogether; either way, your answer is immediate.

"No," you whisper, curling your fingers in his waistcoat. You feel light-headed and dizzy with the warmth of him, can feel yourself reacting to his proximity and the throbbing pulse of the bruise at your neck. Unconsciously, you press your thighs together and whine as Kandomere immediately slips his own between them.

"No?" he asks, head tilting as he regards you. Making a show of it, as though he didn't already know the state you were in. As if his nose hadn't already picked up on the traces of your arousal. His thigh eases up between your own, your dress rucking up around it, and presses against your clothed sex. "Would you rather I take care of this?"

Your voice comes out in a whimper. " _Yes_."

Wordlessly, Kandomere guides your hands to his hair, curling your fingers through the silky blue strands. "Hold tight," he says, the tip of his nose trailing down the line of your throat, over the mark he'd left there, and then further down. "Show me where you want me. Pull, if you want me to stop." He glances up at you, his cheek against the swell of your breast. "Do you understand?"

You nod, your voice a soft croak as you whisper, "Yes," and then watch in breathless wonder as your lover sinks to his knees.

Static and the sound of your heavy breath fills your ears, your cheeks hot as you watch Kandomere's lips descend from the exposed flesh of your breasts to the high-waisted band of your dress. The skirt flares over your stomach, brushing against your thighs, and you gasp as his hands drift along your shins, over your knees, and beneath the hem. His palms are smooth and warm, his fingers pressing into the meat of your thighs and making you whimper. Your fingers clench within his hair as he trails kisses down your torso, over the curve of your belly, the warmth of his lips prevalent even through your dress. He watches you as he goes, the intensity of his gaze making your knees weak. Your shoulders press against the wall as you reach for stability, the ache between your legs nearly unbearable as Kandomere curls his fingers in the hem of your dress and lifts the skirt, bunching it around your waist.

You whimper his name as he dips his fingers beneath your panties and eases them down your legs. He waits, not moving, not continuing, until you flush with realization and guide his head to the apex of your thighs, your face so hot you feel faint with it.

You give a startled, broken gasp as he curls your thigh over his shoulder, closing your eyes at the sheer exposure you feel, the _heat_. It builds and builds in your belly and groin, leaves you keening even before his lips find your slit, his tongue lapping at your swollen flesh before pushing inside.

The back of your head thuds against the wall as you toss it back, your mouth falling open around a desperate whine. You know you should be quiet, that your voice will carry if you're not careful, but you can't control the noises spilling from your throat, don't want to free your fingers from Kandomere's hair long enough to clap your hand over your mouth.

And who cares if they hear you, you think. Let them. What would their faces look like then? Would they be so disbelieving of you if they saw Kandomere like this? Heard him? _No_ , you think, listening to the slick, wet sounds of his lips and tongue working between your legs, the soft huffs of his breath as he delves between your sopping folds. No one would stare at you as if you didn't belong by his side if they saw him now, but you'll be damned if you'll ever give anyone that satisfaction. This, all of this, is all yours. And you should be enjoying it.

So you forget about the stares, the whispers. You wipe those sneering, twittering faces from your mind, until all that's left is the elf on his knees at your feet, the soft, silken strands wrapped around your fingers, and the dark, hungry eyes peering up at you.

And when you walk back into the ballroom on his arm, your legs watery and his lips red and puffy from use, you hold your head up high.


End file.
